


Life on the Moon (couldn't be any stranger)

by dollydolittle



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Community: kradamadness, M/M, Prompt: space, Roswell AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-20 18:33:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollydolittle/pseuds/dollydolittle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam would've thought anyone else in the universe was an alien before he even considered Kris Allen as a possibility.  Apparently the universe is laughing at him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Roswell.

 

 

“Kris Allen is staring at you again.”  
  
“Shut up,” Adam hissed, feeling his cheeks heat up, “he is not.” He looked anyway, because it was _Kris_ , and Brad laughed at him. The thing, though, was that Kris actually _was_ staring at him. Like, _intently_. At least until he realized Adam was staring back, and then his brown eyes widened and fell to the tabletop.  
  
Adam wondered if he had something on his face. “Do I have something on my face?” he asked Brad, in what he would definitely not refer to as a desperate whisper. Brad looked at him blankly. “Did I spill food? Oh God, is my shirt ripped?” He twisted, pulling his vintage, and totally awesome, Bowie shirt away from his body and inspected it. He could see nothing.  
  
“Why are you being spastic?” Brad asked, sounding bored.  
  
“He was looking at me.” The concept was hard to grasp. Kris Allen had been staring at him. His eyes darted to the side, but Kris still had his head down. Katy O’Connell was hard-core glaring though. Adam whipped his eyes back front and center and grabbed his Coke nonchalantly to take a sip. Then he choked, because apparently, the Adam Lambert version of nonchalant sipping was inhaling carbonated beverages.   
  
When he finally managed to catch his breath, the whole diner was staring at him. Except Kris. And two trucker dudes in an argument, but they really had nothing to do with him. Adam could feel himself go red again and he wanted to die. Seriously, a hole needed to open up beneath him right now and swallow him. He needed to not exist.  
  
“Seriously,” Brad said, “Seriously.  
  
“What?” His best friend shook his head and glanced at him again before slowly taking a bite of his sandwich. “ _What_?”  
  
Brad swallowed and looked across the diner to Kris and Katy’s booth and then back at Adam. “How are you such a space case? Kris Allen is always looking at you. Seriously. He like, stalks you or something.”  
  
Adam blinked rapidly, because no, that was not true. Adam totally would have noticed if the boy of his dreams had been stalking him. “You are a lying liar who lies, Bradley Bell.” He stood, because, really, that statement needed a dramatic exit. Brad could pay the check in penance for his taunting. So there.  
  
Except then, just when he was about to get his strut on, there was a loud noise. Followed by screaming and pain.  
  
So much pain.


	2. part 2

And then there was Kris.  
  
“You have to look at me, Adam.”  
  
Adam could do that. Adam loved looking at Kris. Kris was adorable and funny and sweet and Adam seriously loved looking at him, even though he had an unfortunate attachment to plaid.  
  
“Adam!”   
  
That was strange. His eyelids were really heavy.  
  
“Adam, please!”  
  
Kris sounded worried, almost frantic. And that, that wasn’t right. He tried to open his eyes, but it felt like they were caked in stage make-up instead of the light line of eyeliner and brush of mascara Adam knew he had put on. He managed a little, enough to see Kris’ face all scrunched up with concern, his eyes wide and dark, and Adam wanted to freak out because he was _dying_.  
  
He sucked in air, and it was hard, because it _hurt_ , but hell if he was dying without telling Kris how he felt. “Kris-”  
  
“Hey,” Kris breathed, interrupting him, and his face relaxed and then the pain was gone. Gone, and all Adam could see was Kris, and then Kris was gone too, and it was just like every cliché in movies and on television.  
  
Everything went white.  
  
And then Adam’s life flashed before his eyes.


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: the following part contains mentions of divorce and bullying

*  
  
Cold. He was cold and before he’d been warm. Safe.  
  
He screamed.  
  
*  
  
Adam carefully wrote his name at the bottom of the page. A-D-A-M, just like Ms. Paula had taught them. He bit his lip, studying the picture, and nodded happily. His mom would love it. Who didn’t love unicorns? And who cared what stupid Michael said, color couldn’t be contained in _lines_ , it had to explode everywhere…Like happiness.  
  
“Adam.”  
  
He looked up at Ms. Paula and thrust the drawing toward her. “Look!”  
  
“That’s beautiful, Adam.” She crouched down next to him at the coloring table and smiled wide. “And I know just who you can give it to.”  
  
“Who?” Adam asked, because he’d never given a picture to anyone but his mother.  
  
“Your new brother.”  
  
He felt like his heart was too big for his chest and he looked at the unicorn on the paper and then grabbed the yellow crayon again. The one with the gold sparkles in it. The picture definitely needed more color if he was going to give it to his baby brother.  
  
*  
  
He slammed the door to his room and then kicked it for good measure. Neil looked up from his side of the room, book open on his lap, and grimaced at him. Adam grimaced back and threw himself on his bed, rooting around for his headphones.  
  
Anything to stop hearing the fighting.  
  
*  
  
The make-up kit was awesome. Seriously amazing. Just like the acting lessons had been, and the singing lessons, and even the guitar lessons Adam had quit because who had time to sit still and learns chord progressions when _stuff_ was going on?  
  
But even making it to every performance of ‘You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown’ didn’t make up for the fact that they weren’t a family anymore. That come August, Adam would be moving to freaking Nowheresville, Arkansas with his mom while Neil stayed in San Diego with dad.  
  
*  
  
Twelve and miserable. That was how Adam described himself if asked. He had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad life. And his first day at Conway proved it.   
  
First of all, his mom had tried to hold his hand when they walked into the building. In front of all the other kids. Not cool.   
  
Secondly, the boy they got to show him around the school was a total jerk and ran off as soon as they hit the hallway, so Adam had had to find his way around the junior high _alone_ , and had gotten totally lost. Not fair.  
  
Thirdly, all the teachers made him stand in front of the class and talk about himself, and everyone had snickered at him when he said he liked dressing up and acting. _So_ embarrassing.  
  
Then had come gym glass. Adam hated gym class. But he hated what came after gym class more. After gym class his regular clothes were in the showers, soaking wet, and the other boys were laughing.   
  
Adam closed his eyes and tried not to cry.  
  
*  
  
California felt like home, and Adam breathed deep as his dad dropped him off at the theater for rehearsal. He wished summer would last forever.  
  
*  
  
Adam sighed and bit his tongue to keep from hurling curses at Billy and his gang of narrow-minded, ignorant, stupid, idiotic, hateful, hideous goons. He refused to stoop to their level.  
  
Besides, there were worse things they could do than just shove books out of his hands and call him names. It just didn’t feel that way most of the time. He swiped at his cheeks angrily as he knelt to gather his notebooks and papers.   
  
“Are you okay?”  
  
The voice startled him and he looked up to find the new kid bent down beside him, reaching for a piece of paper that had skidded out of Adam’s reach. “I’m fine,” he said, a little blankly, because the kid was wearing a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles t-shirt and one of his shoelaces was untied and Adam got distracted.  
  
“They shouldn’t have said those things.”  
  
“No,” Adam agreed. No one should say those things.  
  
The kid pushed at the glasses sliding down his nose and then handed Adam his geography book. “I’m Kris Allen,” he said, looking straight at Adam, “Kris with a K.”  
  
Adam knew that, Kris was in his Earth Science class. He remembered how silent Kris had been when Mr. Jackson had introduced him. “I’m Adam Lambert.”  
  
Kris smiled, “I know.”   
  
For some reason, Adam blushed and his heart started pounding. Kris stood and then offered Adam a hand up.  
  
Adam fell a little bit in love.  
  
*  
  
The boy leaning against his locker was everything Adam wanted to be. He was slim and sparkly and dressed like he didn’t care about what people thought.  
  
Adam blinked at him. “You’re on my locker,” he said, almost afraid to speak, because no way was this boy real.  
  
He side-stepped, brown eyes raking over Adam and Adam went red, he knew he did. He was ginger-haired and overweight and freckly, and he hated when people looked at him. And then those same brown eyes flicked over his locker, over the word spray-painted on it. Fag.   
  
It was only the third day of school.  
  
“Are you really gay?” the boy asked, a drawl to his voice that wasn’t from Arkansas. His gaze was still piercing, and Adam felt his jaw drop, because no one had every asked him outright.  
  
He clenched his fists and raised his head, and met the boy’s eyes stare for stare. “Yes.”  
  
The boy smirked. “Perfect. You, petal, are my new BFF.”  
  
There were a lot of things Adam could say to that, but mostly he just wanted to know who he was. “Who _are_ you?”  
  
“Bradley Bell.” He gave a little bow and stepped into Adam’s bubble personal space. “You can call me Brad.” He said it like it was a great honor and Adam smiled in spite of himself.  
  
*  
  
Adam tried to keep his staring to a minimum, he really did, but there was only so much subtlety a sixteen year old could manage. Brad _said_ he would try to keep his eye-rolling to a minimum, but Adam thought he wasn’t trying very hard.  
  
The problem was that Kris Allen had gotten hot and still stayed ridiculously nice, and that Adam had gone from a little bit in love to a full blown, hearts-in-his-notebook, doodling KA + AL crush.  
  
The problem was that Kris was dating Katy O’Connell, the Ice Queen.  
  
Adam closed his locker, ignored Brad’s disparaging babbling, and sighed as across the hallway Katy tried to get Kris to undo the top two buttons of his shirt. Plaid, of course, in an unfairly flattering teal and maroon combination.  
  
Adam was torn between hoping she succeeded, because _skin_ , and spitefully praying for Kris not to give in. The point was rendered moot when Cale Mills reached over Katy’s shoulder and simply unbuttoned Kris’ shirt.  
  
Adam muttered under his breath and Brad laughed at him.  
  
*  
  
Adam stepped off the scale, still grinning at the number, and turned to the sink to start brushing his teeth. The reflection in the mirror made him pause, still unused to the dark hair.  
  
And then he grinned again.  
  
*  
  
Brad settled into the passenger seat of Adam’s Mustang, an early graduation gift from his dad, and flicked his sunglasses onto his face. “Do we have to go to the Kay Sizzle, _again_?”  
  
“I have a craving for a milkshake.”  
  
“You have a craving for something, alright,” Brad mumbled, his tone disgruntled and disbelieving.  
  
“Shut up,” Adam ordered. Just because Kim Allen owned the diner didn’t mean Kris would be there after all. Even though it was Friday, and Kris always did his homework in the booth with the ripped seat next to the counter every Friday after school.  
  
That didn’t even factor in.  
  
Adam just wanted a milkshake. Or a Coke. A milkshake probably wasn’t good for his diet.  
  
*


	4. 4

 

The first thing Adam saw when he opened his eyes was Kris Allen hovering over him, and he was totally, completely, and absolutely cool with that. Kris Allen could hover over him all he wanted. Especially if it meant those pretty pink lips of his were that close to Adam’s rather freckly ones.  
  
The first thing Adam felt was Kris’ hands on his chest, pressure firm but gentle. That was when Adam realized that Kris was on his lap.  
  
Kris Allen was _straddling_ him.  
  
Adam wanted to pinch himself, because this had to be a dream. A really awesome dream. Either that, or Adam had died and this was his version of heaven.  
  
And then Adam remembered that he had been shot.  
  
Maybe he really was dead. “Um…”  
  
Kris’ mouth, the mouth that was temptingly close to Adam’s, opened. “It’s gonna be okay,” he said.  
  
“Kris.” Adam looked past Kris to see Katy standing there, and beyond Katy was the rest of the diner. The rest of the diner was _frozen_.  
  
“What the hell?” Adam asked, because _what the hell_. He twisted his head, and there was Brad beside the table, expression unmoving and horrified. “What-“  
  
“It’s okay,” Kris repeated, “You’re okay.”   
  
Adam looked back at him, noting the shallowness of his breathing. “I don’t understand,” he said. He’d been shot, he knew it. He could remember the pain, remember seeing things…memories he didn’t even know he had, and Kris…  
  
“Kris,” Katy said again, tone clipped and strained. She was sweating, her bottom lip caught in her teeth. “I can’t hold this.” She put a hand on Kris’ shoulder and he straightened, rising off of Adam. Adam’s brain, the part that wasn’t boggling over the fact that someone, _Katy_ , had immobilized an entire restaurant, mourned the loss of Kris’ weight and warmth and wanted to make grabby hands until Kris was cuddled against him.  
  
Kris nodded, “Okay.” It seemed to be all he could say. He seemed pretty in shock, Adam thought, all shaking and wide-eyed and he didn’t take his eyes off Adam for a second. Adam blinked, and then Kris shook himself. “Okay,” he said, only this time he sounded like himself.   
  
Adam wanted to ask questions, a lot of questions, his brain was buzzing with them, but then there was movement, and the only thing he could think of was when the hell did Cale get here? He watched as Cale Mills walked through the diner, hands trailing over people’s shoulders, hands, heads, any body part in reach, and then he stopped next to Kris and Katy and stared down at Adam, expression detached.  
  
He reached down and Adam recoiled, because _do not want_ , but he didn’t have anywhere to go. He closed his eyes, not sure what was happening, but the touch never came. He peered through his lashes to see Kris holding Cale’s wrist, shaking his head. Cale made a curious sound and Katy gave a muffled scream behind them, and she was getting paler, Adam thought.  
  
“Adam won’t say anything,” Kris murmured, watching him, “Will you, Adam?”  
  
There was really only one response to that, with Kris’ brown eyes meeting his so earnestly. “No.”  
  
Kris smiled at him, and Adam’s heart, the one that had had a bullet in it just a few moments ago, skipped a beat. Cale shrugged and reached out again, for Brad this time, and Adam shivered when his best friend’s face went blank.  
  
“Kris,” Katy said again, faint and urgent. There were sirens in the background, getting louder, and the sound of a door shutting, closer. The four of them who weren’t statues looked to see Kim Allen standing there, surveying her domain. She shot Adam a scrutinizing look and then looked to the three standing.   
  
“I’ll take it from here.” Katy and Cale nodded, moving toward the door Kris’ mom had come from, the door that led into the back, where the stairs that led to Cale’s apartment were located. Kris hesitated, still staring at Adam. “Baby,” Mrs. Allen said, her voice tender, “Go get cleaned up.”  
  
Kris looked surprised and then jerked his hands up as if he’d never seen them before. Adam swallowed, because his palms were red and Adam felt dizzy, because that was blood. _His_ blood.  
  
Suddenly, Kris was a whirlwind of action and there was a bottle of ketchup plopped on Adam’s shirt. Adam’s vintage Bowie shirt. He looked up at Kris, appalled. “You fainted, okay,” Kris told him, “The gunshot scared you, and you fainted. You knocked over the bottle on the way down and spilled all over yourself. Okay?” Adam gaped. “Okay, Adam?” Kris pressed.   
  
He knelt down, close enough to kiss, and touched Adam’s shoulder. “Adam, I need you to trust me, okay? Promise you won’t say anything. Please?”  
  
Kris Allen was touching him again, and Adam was pretty sure he would agree to anything if that kept happening, regardless of getting shot and frozen people. “I promise,” he whispered, and Kris smiled at him.  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
Then Kris was gone, through that back door, and suddenly there was movement, and noise, and red and blue lights flashing, and Brad screeching in his ear. And through it all was Kris’ mom, calming people, talking to the police, and keeping one eye on Adam.  
  
“Son, are you all right? Are you hurt?” There was a paramedic kneeling beside him, where Kris had been, and Adam blinked at him, because _no_ , Adam was not all right. Adam had been freaking shot and then weird things had happened and he had no clue what was going on.  
  
“Oh my god, Adam, were you shot?” Brad is hyperventilating, freaking out, and generally throwing the queen of all drama fits and that was exactly what Adam should be doing as well.   
  
“No,” he said instead, “No, I got scared. I think I fainted.” He touched the redness on his chest tentatively and then put his finger to his mouth. “It’s just ketchup. I just spilled ketchup.”

 


End file.
